


After Hours (the B side)

by high_and_down



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23360428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/high_and_down/pseuds/high_and_down
Summary: Never mind hygiene.
Relationships: Axel/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	After Hours (the B side)

ffs everybody is OBSESSED WITH HYGIENE also characters belong to Square Enix. 

After hours (the B side) 

*

It is after hours. Tonight has been quieter than usual and so it takes less time to close up. 

Axel is grateful for the early break. Recently he has been having some ... distracting thoughts on his mind. It affects his ability to concentrate and drains his strength to the point of hindering his work ethic. He has never been much good at keeping on track with tasks – his parents discovered in childhood that he had mild attention deficiency disorder – but tonight particularly he has not been able to stop thinking certain thoughts that will not leave him alone. It has distracted him greatly. 

It’s difficult to know if Roxas is affected to the same extent. Roxas is good at masking his emotions and appearing completely unruffled (partly the cause for this mess Axel is in) but after all this time he can read the little signs that determine how Roxas feels. He is just as ... distracted ... as Axel. Surely. 

Nonetheless he betrays no shaky movements, no tremor of the voice and his focus is sharp as ever. Axel lost count of how many times he himself screwed up tonight. He is certain he will lose his job for this night of errors. Roxas, on the other hand, conducted himself as impeccably as always. 

He tries to catch Roxas’ eye. Roxas ignores him and continues stacking plates and hanging glasses in preparation for tomorrow evening. It is quiet and the clinking sounds of crystal and glass echo through the space and fill it with a mysterious and magical atmosphere. The staff have all been sent home early for the evening. The two of them are there alone and as Axel locks the doors and pulls the heavy cream coloured drapes closed behind the calligraphic “Closed” sign, he notices that it is drizzling outside and there are few people to be seen on the streets. Those remaining are hurrying home under the cover of a parapluie, an overcoat or jacket or simply their bare arms. 

Roxas is now folding tablecloths or tea-towels or some type of linen on one of the larger tables. Axel watches him none too subtly. Blonde hair falls into his eyes only to be flicked back with an annoyed jerk of the head, but as soon as he leans over to grab another tea-towel, it happens again. He is always complaining about it but has never made any move to get a haircut. He is tense, Axel can see, irritated. His soft complexion is flushed and his face set into a faint scowl – more pronounced than usual. His posture is straight but clipped movements of his hands and arms indicate that he is well aware that Axel is watching. 

Roxas speaks softly but it still takes Axel by surprise. “Is that everything for tonight?”

Axel has come to know Roxas better than anybody else. Easier though it may be to believe that Roxas means to be curt and impolite when he speaks so shortly, Axel detects the underlying demand that is partly furious, partly craving. 

He doesn’t answer. Roxas continues in ignoring him. Axel thinks that if he waits long enough, Roxas will respond to his not responding. He further observes Roxas and he feels a heat creeping over his entire body. He stays rooted to the spot and tortures himself a little longer, taking in the shadows hinting at fine muscle and sinew along the younger’s forearms, the long legs that taper into firm hips and the way he holds himself so confidently – self-assured, strong. It is there in the set line of his eyebrows and his aquiline nose, lips that Axel just knows are to die for pursed in controlled concentration, in the smooth lines along his throat as he twists his head to look up at Axel and quirk a brow almost expectantly. Axel hurries to reply to the question yet unanswered from ten minutes ago. 

“No, it’s not everything.” His voice is gentle and calm but he can’t cover the forceful temper that inflects his words.

Silence. There is the smallest quirk in the muscle along Roxas’ jaw, but he waits. Axel plays the silly game for a fleeting moment longer and then he moves. There is a rush of adrenaline, of sweet expectancy, of thrilling intimacy, and then Roxas is sprawled across the table beneath him with a stunned look in his wide blue eyes, out of breath, painstakingly folded tea-towels strewn everywhere in a mess of soft white jasmine-scented cotton like giant flower petals, Axel baring his teeth in a rage and ripping Roxas right out of that well-fitted black button-down dress shirt that had every customer and some of the staff eyeballing him all through the whole freaking evening and now, now finally he has Roxas right where he wants him.

Axel is breathing hard and he feels his heart racing. There is a monster inside him that wants to open its jaws wide and devour Roxas completely.   
Night outside has grown dark. The sound of rain falling ever heavier is a backdrop to their loud, exaggerated breathing and the sounds of Roxas’ pants being unzipped and pulled down. There comes next a shaky, tempered moan of relief and lust and Roxas is slapping a hand over his mouth, biting his lip and tossing his head all in an effort to keep quiet as Axel’s mouth slides expertly down onto his cock. 

“Oh ... fuck!” Roxas hisses, falling back onto his elbows, head craned so he can watch the redhead as he concentrates on making sure that every bit of Roxas’ attention is on him now; he’s well and truly fed up with being ignored all night and he’ll make damn sure that Roxas can’t think of anything but him for the rest of the evening.

Roxas is biting savagely into the side of his hand in an effort to shut himself up. Axel withdraws and slides up Roxas’ half-naked body, pressing him oh-so-intimately down into the table. He grabs Roxas’ hand and pins it above his head. “Nobody is here. Why worry about being quiet?” His smile is wicked, eyes wild with desire and amusement and triumph.

“I – Axel, we’re in the restaurant –“ But Axel doesn’t care. He expertly grinds his hips down and they both exhale shudderingly. Roxas struggles to release his hands and it turns into an erotic wrestling match amongst the serviettes and Axel lets him win, secretly pleased at the fact that Roxas is straddling him over the dinner table and his hair is mussed, trousers falling down his hips (if Axel gets his way, which he will, they’ll be gone very shortly) and a marvellously predatory look in those gemstone eyes that guarantees Axel is in for a good night. 

He half expects Roxas to say something – a lecture about manners in the restaurant or even decency or hygiene for crying out loud, but he wouldn’t mind getting talked down in the slightest when they are in this position, the supple blonde stretched over his lap right where they both love it – however Roxas grins wide and tears Axel’s shirt off him. Axel hardly has the time to blink. Evidently neither of them are in the mood for taking it slow. He is proven wrong when Roxas traces his fingertips, then his tongue, infuriatingly slowly down Axel’s cheek, lips, neck, chest, ribs, and then down over his painfully hard dick without removing Axel’s belt or pants and the touch is just feather-light enough to almost drive Axel completely out of his mind. 

Axel shouts and trembles when Roxas begins mouthing his balls through the fabric of his pants. The little bastard is exhaling hot air with his mouth and nose so Axel can feel everything, but at the same time he feels nothing. “Goddammit ...” he growls, fingers flying down to undo his belt and yank his pants open. He digs his fingers into Roxas’ hair and somewhat firmly guides his head to where it ought to be. Roxas just stares at him with those endless blue eyes, even deeper in this dim lighting, expressionless and for a moment Axel feels guilty but then Roxas puts his pretty mouth to work and finally, finally Axel throws his head back against the table and lets a euphoric sigh escape him. 

His hand creeps down and finds Roxas’, fingers twining as Roxas uses his other hand in addition to his mouth, his tongue and lips and teeth and throat. He doesn’t dare look at Roxas for that will bring him over the edge, he just knows it. He is already too close and he pushes Roxas away feebly, standing and slipping out of his shoes and the trousers caught around his knees so he is now standing in the middle of the restaurant stark naked. 

Roxas is leaning against the table, his cheeks red and his eyes a little puffy – yes, he really outdid himself – and his lips shiny and swollen. His chest heaves up and down with each breath, the fluttering of tight muscles evanescent with the shadows from overhead. Axel takes a good look at him. He might never eat again if he could just feast on that for eternity. 

Emboldened by his nudity – because it’s his preferred state of being, and he is rarely embarrassed by anything and most certainly not being naked – he strides over and pushes Roxas a little roughly backwards into the table. He has trouble finding his voice, he is so aroused. “Turn around,” he manages to grunt. Roxas is halfway there when Axel loses patience and forcefully presses him face-down into the table by way of a hand between his shoulder-blades. Roxas lets out a small cry and only partially catches his fall with his palms on either side of his face. Axel wastes no time in tearing his trousers down his legs and then Roxas too is naked, bent forwards over the table and unbelievably exposed. 

Axel gets to his knees behind Roxas. He pries apart Roxas’ perfect buttocks (he is saving those for later) and blows almost carelessly at the tiny, fragile hole that quivers and contracts when the warm air hits it. Roxas moans quietly and stuffs his face into a nearby pile of napkins. Unbearably aroused, Axel desperately wants to just stuff Roxas full and pound him into next week but at the same time, he wants to pay Roxas back for making him wait so long. That is, if he can hold out. 

Wetting his lips, he lightly traces around Roxas’ anus with the tip of his tongue. This time Roxas is unable to hold back the open, throaty moan that leaks into the quiet night. Axel does this a few more times and then stands up, smirking when Roxas seems to notice the lack of contact and starts to moan softly. He slicks up two fingers quickly with his saliva and waits until Roxas is about to get up out of impatience, then just as Roxas is standing up, he slides them in. He has to push harder than he thought. Roxas is supremely tight, especially around the muscle that rings the very entrance. He places his other hand back between Roxas’ shoulder-blades, pushing him back down onto the table and starts thrusting his fingers in and out at a brutal pace, pressing eagerly every time into a soft bundle of nerves with which he is well acquainted. Roxas has ceased any attempt at silence and is continuing with loud, breathless cries that would make anybody passing by think they were having sex. Axel grins, feeling Roxas start to tighten even further. He sticks his fingers right in, never mind hygiene, and rubs frantically and Roxas cums all over the table and the napkins and the floor. 

There is silence for a moment. Roxas collapses. Axel kisses him from the small of his back up his neck to his ear and cheek. “Hey,” he whispers. It is rare for Axel to be anything but blaringly loud, but he does have his moments. Post-coital is one of them. Slowly Roxas turns around to kiss Axel back. It is the first kiss they have shared all night. This too is rare, for an orgasm to precede kissing, but what’s life without a little variety, Axel reasons in the back of his head. 

Roxas hoists himself backwards onto the table and wraps his legs around Axel. The table is low enough that it is a slight strain on Axel’s back, so he drags Roxas’ ass to the edge of the table so it is flush with his groin. They are still caught in a passionate kiss and Axel knows his back will be fucked tomorrow. But it is completely worth it, for the parts of him that get fucked tonight. 

He slides into Roxas slowly. One of them moans – maybe both of them, he isn’t sure. This feeling, of fitting so closely together, this tight, hot, bursting, is enough to make him cum, but he holds it. He has had to learn restraint with Roxas. So tempting is the younger that if he had not disciplined himself, their sex would be periodically over before it had ever started. 

Their rhythm begins erratically. Axel has to stand up and brace the blonde’s legs against his chest, calves hanging over his shoulders, his hands gripping Roxas’ thighs for leverage. Like this he can see all of Roxas spread out on him like a fabulous buffet, every flush that washes over him and every tear that collects in the corners of his eyes as Axel pushes him towards a second climax for the evening. He is so taken with how warm and tight Roxas is. It feels amazing. He wants to tell Roxas that their sex seems to get better every time but he can’t spare the brains to do it, not when that tight little ass is driving him out of his mind and sucking all his intelligence and his very existence out through his cock. He pounds into Roxas without caring that they have maintained the same position completely throughout. There is always next time. And he is enjoying this far too much to give a fuck. 

“I love you,” he grits out. Inappropriate timing, yes. Axel has never been an expert on etiquette. But he knows that Roxas doesn’t need to hear it to know it. 

“Axel –“ Roxas gasps by way of reply. His fingertips are constantly scrabbling for purchase on the stretched tablecloth, pinching small folds of linen in a vague attempt to cope with the intense, mind-erasing pleasure. 

Shakily, Axel reaches down to wrap a hand around Roxas’ straining dick. He starts to jerk Roxas off and hurriedly pulls out and starts to jerk himself off with his other hand. It is a matter of seconds before they both hit their climax, Axel first ejaculating all over Roxas’ chest and stomach, some stray ribbons splattering up Roxas’ neck and a couple of drops landing on his cheek. Roxas follows immediately after, coating himself with a second layer of pearly white cum. 

Axel lets out a loud and shuddering, shaky exhalation before falling to his side on the table just next to Roxas. Tiredly, he collects a few napkins and offers them to Roxas. “I kinda like seeing you like that,” he mumbles, but helps Roxas to wipe himself off anyway.

The night outside has grown misty dark. Grey, rather than black. It is probably a little humid and the drizzling rain has not let up just yet. Neon lights flash in the distance and the constant drone of automobiles slapping rubber down on the bitumen are a meaningless but lulling hum in the back of Axel’s consciousness.

Roxas gives a little sigh and closes his eyes. “We’ll have to scrub the place top to bottom now. Because of you.”

Tearing his gaze away from Roxas, Axel casts a brief glance at the destruction around them. “Worth it,” he grins. 

Roxas opens his eyes and even if there’s no smile on his lips, Axel can see the smile dancing in those crystal blue eyes. Roxas has a sheen of sweat and probably sex-induced tears drying on his temples and forehead. Apropos of seemingly nothing, he says offhandedly, “Me too.” 

Axel doesn’t even need to ask. He’s already got it memorised. 

The restaurant windows are all fogged up. Timid raindrops trace tiny paths in the blurry glass and refract the outside nightlife into microscopic dancing rainbow lights.

All that can be seen from the street is the gentle, warm light of after hours. 

*


End file.
